Memorial Day activities

Memorial day was a very special day at our house.  It was Bryce's first birthday.  Hip Hip Hooray!

My goal was to make an interview video with him but he wasn't cooperating so this is all I got.



Then we loaded in the car for Hash's "birthday activity."  If you're not familiar with our family's strangeness, we don't give birthday presents, we plan a birthday activity (birthday person's choice) for the family.  Hash "chose" to go to the Bingham Copper Mine. 

Then we drove from that mountain range on the west, all the way across the Salt Lake Valley and into the mountain on the east to have lunch just outside of Park City at the NO WORRY grill & cafe.  Breakfast all day long.  It was fabulous.  We continued on to Heber city and stopped by a new cheese factory and sampled their ice cream.  Then on down Provo canyon, oogling over how high the river was.  In honor of Memorial Day, we stopped by the Orem City Cemetery and paid our respects to Great Grandpa and Grandma Dewey.  We ended the day with a BBQ in the company of sister, Audra and her family.

All in all, it was a wonderful, wonderful day of family celebration.

a good sign that Parker is a boy

Check out the dirt line on his ankle. 

FAMILY BIRTHDAY

hip hip hooraise

While making cinnamon rolls:

Camille:  "Are the cinnamon rolls ready yet?"

Mom:  "No, they still have to raise."

Rachel:  "Yeah.  Like Hip Hip Hooray!"

Parker's poem

Parker has been studying different poem types and had the assignment to write a poem of couplets.  The final word was given to him and he had to fill in the rest.  Here's what he created.

Some people were playing.  It was a nice day.
The next day was a good day.  They wanted to play.

When it got dark.  They came back in and had a dream.
The dream made her hungry.  The dream was of ice cream.

The next day, they went to the toy store and got a toy.
Tomorrow, we had a baby.  It was a baby boy.

The next day we went to the bookstore for a look.
We got a book.

It looks fun.
I'm done.
So let's run.

I love that this poem perfectly captures Parker's attention span.  The lines start showing a less focus and then finally, he decides he's done.  And what does he want to do?  Run.  Classic.  I love that boy!

Book review: Blubber

I was perusing the books at Deseret Industries and came upon a book by an author I remember enjoying as a child. Judy Blume, ever heard of her? In particular, I remember reading “Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing” and the “Fudge” books that followed. “Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great” and “Freckle Juice” were fun to read as well.
 So when I saw “Blubber”, by Judy Blume, on the shelf for .50 I promptly put it in my cart thinking Sydney would like reading it. The setting is 5th grade, Syd’s grade next year, and judging from the back cover, the book is about a little bit of bullying. That’s a topic all children should know about and I thought this would be a good jumping-off point for some timely discussions.


Luckily, I read the book myself first. Call me naïve, and you’re welcome, but I was not prepared for the harshness of the text. The reviews on the back cover describe the story as “entertaining”, “An inside look at how obnoxious some well-to-do, suburban, fifth grade children can be”, and “a good family story as well as a school story”. The type of bullying I read in this book I would never describe as entertaining, obnoxious or a good family story.


The story is told from Jill’s perspective. She seems to be your typical 10 or 11 year old. She joins Wendy, the ring-leader of several students, in bullying Linda. A slightly over-weight girl who doesn’t seem to have any friends. I just couldn’t believe the cruelty of the girls’ actions against Linda. It went way beyond name-calling and pushing. Most of the bullying was pre-conceived and well-thought out by Wendy and supported the rest of the class. It was almost too much for me, as an adult, to read. Maybe I’m a softee, but yuck. I kept thinking this has to get better. There has to be a refuge for her or a friend or sympathetic adult, at least. But the adults and teachers were all completely clueless and unsympathetic. When the tables turn and Jill is the target, the most sympathetic thing she hears is from her mother who says, “It’s rough to be on the other side, isn’t it?” There is also some language from Jill and quite a bit of cigarette smoking by her mother.


“Blubber” was published in 1974 and times have changed. I think we have more of a “no tolerance” philosophy after some of the school violence episodes we’ve seen unfold. I was just totally unprepared for what I read. There was no cushion. It was all raw realism. Perhaps that’s what Judy Blume is known for. I just didn’t remember any of that rawness in her other books.


So I guess my final thoughts are, I’m not going to suggest that Sydney read this book. I think it would worry her. It would be a good jumping off point for a discussion on bullying, but I’m not sure now is the time. And one other thing is for sure, I think I’ll keep reading the books she is reading. I’ve always thought this was a good idea, but now I’m quite certain. Not that I’ll censor what she reads, but I would like to be able to discuss it with her. Especially important topics like bullying.

school activities

As the school year is winding down, the end of year activities and performances start to heat up.  Here are the latest.

Parker's class, combined with other 2nd grade classes, put on a Patriotic Program.  Parker was on the front row and we couldn't see him very well unless he stood up and we looked between heads, so we didn't get a good shot of him.  But he did a great job singing the songs.  He knew most of the words, especially "Coming to America" by Neil Diamond. 

Sydney's class went on a mini-Pioneer Trek.  3 miles roundtrip.  They had to cross over some water, they played pioneer games and made pioneer crafts.  They pushed handcarts and had sooo much fun.  I helped her dress to the hilt and that was fun enough.  I made her bonnet, shawl and apron.  Just call me pioneer wannabe.  Thanks and appreciation go to her teacher, Mr. Larson, for making it happen.  He has been amazing!

I said it in sacrament meeting

I gave a talk in sacrament meeting and admitted that I struggle with depression. WHAT? Yes, I said it in front of everyone; men, women and children. And the response have been interesting.


When I give a talk, sometimes I kind of feel like an observer and when I sit back down, I come back to myself. Its a strange feeling and difficult to explain. Most likely I'm trying to transport myself to my happy place to mentally escape being in front of a chapel full of people. Which is funny, because in reality, although the chapel is full, most of the youth are probably sleeping or texting and most of the adults are focused on trying to keep their children quiet-ish. So what am I worried about.


Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that my only focus is getting the correct words out of my mouth in a logical way. I'm so focused on that, that I'm not very aware of anything else. And this is my point, I DO remember the feeling in the room when I started talking about being depressed. This is what I said:


"I have suffered with depression occasionally. There have been times when I have looked out the window and its beautiful out there. But I just knew that the moment I walked outside, it would all fade to gray. I didn’t know how that could happen but I knew that it would. I’ve been afraid to go to sleep, I’ve been afraid to wake up. I have felt hopeless with no reprieve. I have had loving people all around me and still felt lonely and hopeless, despite their love and encouragement."


I didn't delve into any specific experiences. I simply shared that I struggle. And the energy in the room changed. Sterling mentioned it after the meeting. He felt it too. And then sisters began to approach me and thank me for saying what I did. Some knew others who struggle, others struggle themselves. I was surprised by how many women talked to me throughout the rest of the week.


Why was it such a big deal for me to talk about depression in sacrament meeting? Why do we, as women, feel like we need to hide it? Because we shouldn't hide it, most of all from each other. The support of other women is where we can find strength. But who am I to talk? I most often try to hide my sliding into depression with a fake smile as I run through the mundane motions of motherhood. I can put on a good show for 3 hours at church or carpool or playgroup. The show holds up ok until I find myself crying in the shower or yelling at my children, or asking them to fix their own meals while I crawl back into bed. Then it becomes pretty evident that I need some help. The very help I should have openly asked for from the beginning, from my husband, my neighbors, my extended family.


The fact of the matter is, I trick myself into thinking I’m good at hiding it, but most of the time I’m not. For example:


After child #3 was born (going from 2 to3 was particularly difficult), I struggled quite a bit. It was summertime and I had already reached my breaking point early in the afternoon. I sent the older two children outside to play and resumed my crying in private. Soon enough, I heard a knock at the door. I quickly dried my eyes and put a smile on my face as I opened the door. It was my neighbor, returning something she had borrowed. Before she left, she asked how I was doing. I told her I was fine. She asked again. I assured her I was doing just fine, couldn’t be better. As I closed the door I caught a reflection of myself in a mirror. In drying my eyes, I had forgotten to wipe my face and mascara was still streaked down my cheeks. Despite my smile and assurances that I was just fine, I had been caught.


Again I struggled when child #5 was one day away from being one month old (are you sensing a pattern here?.) One day before his month mark, I was notified that he was not covered on our insurance plan. It seemed like everything that could go wrong,, did go wrong. After missing emails, broken faxes, long distance phone call chaos, I completely lost it. I ordered the children outside and told them not to let anyone in the house. “Just tell people I’m not even home,” I told them. I then collapsed on my bed in body-racking sobs. They were loud and physical, the kind that no one should ever see or hear. What I didn’t know was that my neighbor (a different one) was in the hallway. She quietly took my children to her house and gave me the privacy I needed. But again, I had been caught while I had been trying to hide.


Of course, there are many other experiences. Sometimes I was caught and sometimes I wasn’t. Sometimes it was after a baby was born and sometimes it wasn’t. But why try to hide? I know I’m not the only one. And if one of my neighbors needed help, I would be there in a minute. The more we help and support each other, the stronger we are. But sometimes we need to reach out and ask for the help.

And that’s exactly what I will do. I will not try and hide anymore. And if you see mascara on my cheeks, by-darnit, you’d better let me know!

weird and AWESOME!

Is blogger being weird or is it me?  Nothing is saving.  I had a post I wanted to put up today but it only shows half of it.

I guess I'll just ramble. 

So, I saw an email this morning from Segullah, a wonderful blog for LDS women.  They were going to publish one of my essays.  I was beyond excited.  And this essay said it would be up tomorrow.  I can't wait, I thought.  I'll have to check it first thing Monday morning.  Then it dawned on me - the email came in on Saturday so tomorrow is today!  I hurriedly checked their site and sure enough.  There was my essay.  Only now, I had wasted half my day merely preparing to be excited when I should have been excited all day. 

So, if you want to see it, its top billing for the rest of the day.  Yay for me.

click HERE.

twinners

Rachel and cousin, Paige, 3/23/08

There have been lots of studies and research done, all in the name of finding out how to live longer.  Well, Deseret News reported this morning that mothers of twins live longer.  Wow!  Good news for mothers of twins.  Which means waaaaay good news for my church ward. 


Start guessing now how many twins we have in our ward boundaries.  It will astound you.


The article states, "Having twins will not make you stronger or healthier, but stronger, healtheir women are more likely to have twins naturally" said Shannen Robson, a doctoral student in anthropology at the U."


So we have some pretty strong and healthy women in our neighborhood. They are AWESOME! (Are you guessing 3 or 4?  Hardly.)


In this study they "looked at Utah population data for nearly 59,000 non-polygamous Utah women born between 1807 and 1899 who lived at least to age 50 and whose husbands were alive while the women were fertile."  OK, yes, things have changed since then and the 1800s were a long time ago, but how else were they to measure longevity?  I also find it interesting all the qualifiers they needed:  non-polygamous, husbands alive. 


(Are you guessing 6 sets of twins?  Um, nope.)


"We're saying that women who twin naturally have something that makes them healthier." 


And so the question is - How many of these amazing women are my neighbors?  Well, we have 8 sets of twins, 7 mothers.  That's right.  One dear friend has 2 sets of twins.  And if you add in the 2 sets that have moved and then the mother with quadruplets.... well, let's just say...we love twins around here.



Rachel and cousin, Paige, 3/23/08

 Wait, wait!  Before you get any crazy ideas - the article ends with this quote:

"We're not encouraging women to actively seek having twins so they can live longer," said Smith.  "It's not a conclusion we can draw."

Mother's Day

snakes, snails and puppy dog tails

"Little boys come in all shapes and sizes,

Shy and adventurous, full of surprises,

With misshapen halos andmischievous grins,

Small dirty faces, and sweet, sticky chins.

They'll keep you so busy, and yet all the while

Nothing can brighten the world like their smile.

And no greater treasure has brought homes more joy

Than a curious, active, and lovable boy!"

Anon.

I don't know a thing about raising boys.  Most of the time I feel like I'm failing at the boy thing.  I feel like I kind of have a loose grip on raising girls, after all, I AM one.  And the girls have outnumbered the boys in my family for a quite a while.  But now my son is almost 8 and he has a cohort, younger brother.  So I think I better get serious about the boy thing. 

Boys are a whole different creature.  They are busy, busy, busy, hyper, hyper, energy, crazy.  And they are LOUD! and they are messy and they are physical and they are emotional.  And believe me, with 3 girls I know emotion.  But sometimes, I think my boys could put those girls to shame.  I'm just not sure the have the stamina.  Or the patience.  Or the understanding.

And I worry all the time that I'm messing things up.  I'm not giving him enough structure, discipline, love, forgiveness, growing opportunities.  So many times I just feel at a loss.  Does he have good friends? Is HE a good friend?  What are his interests?  Is he confident, smart, empathetic, intuitive?  How can I teach him to be gentle?  Will he respect the girls and women in his life?  Am I any help at all to him? And I hate to admit it, but on bad days, I just want to throw in the towel and turn it all over to his Dad, who is absolutely wonderful with him. 

I also have to admit that I just love my boys like crazy!

I love it when I can tell that Parker's body is completely inadequate to contain the energy of his spirit and he is bursting at every seem.  Its like his entire body vibrates sometimes because of the energy and enthusiasm it contains.  

  I love it when I see him grasp a concept in school and all of a sudden, the homework battle is in a truce for a few days while he masters it.  Regrouping in double digit subtraction, you have been conquered.  Consider yourself defeated 

I love it when he brings home his homework folded up like an airplane and is more excited to show my how it flies than the A on his spelling test, hiding inside.

And I do rather enjoy that stinky boy smell on a summer evening after he's been playing basketball and riding bikes and running in the field.

And don't get me started on the sun-kissed faced that is so exhausted and content at the same time.

Yes, I enjoy having boys.  Its just my part of the equation I struggle with.  And I pray every night that I can be the mother they need me to be.

"Roses can say I love you

Orchids can enthrall

But a weed bouquet in a chubby fist

Oh boy, that says it all."

anon

Two stories

STORY #1

[ Setting:  Sacrament Meeting]
[A mother looks frantically around her portion of the pew, realizing she doesn't know where her 11 month old baby is. She looks behind her and finds the baby sitting on a young father's lap, which is also occupied by one of his own 3 young children. ]

Mother to herself:  I cannot believe I lost my son in sacrament meeting.  This cannot be good.
[a whispered conversation]
Mother:  "How long has he been back there?"
Young Father:  "For a few minutes."
Mother to herself:  I didn't even notice he was gone until now.
Mother:  "I am so sorry and sooo embarrassed!"
Young Father:  "He crawled under the bench, bumped his head and started crying so I picked him up."
Mother to herself:  I must be clueless.  I didn't even hear him cry.  What kind of mother...?
Mother:  "Again, I am so embarrassed.  I don't even know what to say."
 
[Finally, the child reaches for his mother and is transferred to her lap.  He looks back longingly at the bench behind him and his kind rescurer.]


3/24/11



STORY #2

[A mother confesses her love to her 3 year old daughter]

Mother:  "Rachel, do you know how much I love you?"
Daughter:  "Yes?"
Mother:  "I love you as much as the sun, and the moon, and the stars.  I love you as much as the oceans and the mountains.  I love you as much as thunder and lightening and "
Daughter:  "Mom?"
Mother:  "Yes, sweetheart?"
Daughter:  "You talk too much."


3/24/11